


Love is a Risk

by imnotinclinedtomaturity



Series: Love is... [2]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: 2010, M/M, big life choices, calming, minor freak outs, okay more than minor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-20
Updated: 2018-05-20
Packaged: 2019-05-09 04:35:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14709197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imnotinclinedtomaturity/pseuds/imnotinclinedtomaturity
Summary: It was early 2010 and Dan was worried (more like panicking) about his future — specifically regarding uni. At this point, Dan wasn’t sure why he made some of the choices he’d made, but, well, he was here now. When his anxiety comes to a head, Dan turns to the only person in Wokingham he trusts to help him: his nana.





	Love is a Risk

**Author's Note:**

> this is a prequel to Love is a Gesture (read here), but it doesn’t matter which order you read them in!
> 
>  
> 
> a huge thanks as always to auroraphilealis for her support and fantastic editing skills. where would i be without you, love??

Dan pressed his nana’s doorbell for a fourth time, glancing at his watch. _5:07_. Bingo should have let out over an hour ago. _Where is she?_ Dan thought desperately.

He’d been standing on her porch, intermittently ringing the doorbell, for nearly ten minutes now. Ten _agonizing_ minutes. Dan was unable to quiet the thoughts that were racing around his head and he just wanted them to shut _up_ already. Briefly, Dan considered giving up. He could go home, pull his duvet over his head, and hide from his fears in the comfort of his own bed.

But Dan knew that he wouldn’t feel any better if he did that. The safety of his cotton sheets was nowhere _near_ comforting enough to calm Dan down. He had no doubt that the fears, the worries, the anxieties, would all continue to haunt him, even in bed.

So instead, Dan turned his back on the door, only to take two strides and sit on the top step of the stoop. For lack of anything better to do, Dan tugged his phone out of his pocket, and opened facebook.

The post on the top of Dan’s feed was the same one that had been the trigger for his entire breakdown:

 _Sarah McKinley:_ omfg i got an offer from manchester today ahhh i’m going to uni xD

Fuck. He’d almost hoped that he’d imagined the post, or mixed up what school Sarah was accepted to. He’d desperately hoped that the fucking post wouldn’t exist — or at the very least, would be buried down his timeline — when he checked again, but of course it wasn’t. The universe wasn’t _that_ kind to Dan.

He quit the application and switched over to his messages with Phil. In the last forty-five minutes, Dan had received six texts from his boyfriend, all of which he’d ignored. Finally, stuck with absolutely nothing else to distract him, Dan took a moment to skim the contents of the messages — they all seemed to be talking about a level in Sonic. Sighing, Dan locked his phone and shoved it back in his pocket.

He’d deal with that later. He couldn’t pretend to care about video games right now, not when he had so much else looming over his head.

For now, he leaned forward, perching his elbows on his knees and cradling his head in his hands. From this close up, he could see how dirty the white tips of his black Converses were. He really should clean them. His eyes drifted up the shoes, stumbling on the silver stars his ex-girlfriend had drawn on with sharpie.

On second thought, maybe he should just buy new Converses. He was saving his money for uni though.

Well, hopefully.

The low rumble of a car pulled Dan from his thoughts. He looked up just in time to see his nana pulling into the driveway. _Thank god._

Dan scrambled to his feet eagerly, brushing the dust from his black jeans, trying to appear as neat as possible. His hand flew up to his hair in a frenzy as he attempted to flatten his stick-straight fringe back down from where the wind had surely ruffled it.

Dan was in the process of arranging his — well, _Phil’s_ , technically, but who’s counting — button down flannel when his nana stepped out of her car.

“Hello Bear, come help me carry the groceries in.” If she was surprised to see him waiting for her, she didn’t show it.

Bless her for not asking why Dan was perched on her stoop on a Tuesday.

Obediently, Dan shuffled over to the car and took the paper bag from his nana’s hands. She ruffled his hair affectionately, effectively messing up his attempts to make it lay straight.

“Let’s get inside, love. It’s cold. You’re not even wearing a proper coat.”

Dan nudged the car door closed with his hip and trailed after his nana, relishing in the warmth of the house when she locked the front door behind him. Without instruction, Dan proceeded into the kitchen, and sat the bag of food on the counter before collapsing into one of the chairs at the table with a groan.

Nana didn’t say anything, just patiently put the groceries away in silence and left Dan room to speak.

Dan chewed through his thoughts, trying to figure out where to begin, how to explain what he was doing here, and why he probably looked a mess. Nana had been the witness to many of Dan’s breakdowns, so she likely already saw it coming.

“I fucked up, Nana.”

“Language, child,” she chided.

“Sorry. I _messed_ up, I mean.”

“I’m sure it’s not as bad as you think, dear. What happened?”

Dan sighed. “You know Phil?”

“Hmm, that lad up north? The one you never shush up about?” His nana teased. “Never heard of him.”

Dan’s cheeks felt on fire, and he was willing to bet that they were probably as red as the tomatoes that Nana was setting on the counter. He knew he talked about Phil a lot, but he didn’t realize _other_ people noticed it too. It wasn’t like he _tried_ to talk about Phil constantly, he just… couldn’t help it.

“Well, um, what exactly have I told you about him?” Dan fished, trying to figure out how much his nana knew.

“Plenty, namely that you seem to think the sun shines out of his bum.” She sat down across from him, appraising him with a critical eye.

Dan didn’t think his cheeks could turn any redder, but apparently they could. His nana was a smart woman, always able to read between the lines and pick up on more than just what Dan said. Sometimes it was a blessing. Sometimes it was a curse. Dan wasn’t sure which it was at this particular moment in time. Maybe both.

“Well, um. In that case. Um…” Dan stumbled through his sentence.

“Out with it,” Nana commanded, folding her arms on the table in front of her.

“He isn’t just a friend,” Dan blurted out before he could lose his nerve, squeezing his eyes shut and hiding his face in his hands, too afraid to watch Nana’s reaction.

Nana didn’t respond, though. Instead, Dan heard her chair scrape against the floor, so he peeked out between his fingers to see what she was doing, confused. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected her to say, but he did expect her to say, well, _something_. But she wasn’t saying _anything._ Instead, she was fetching a few items, setting them down on the table between them.

Dan closely followed her movements with his eyes, trying to figure out what she was doing. First she brought over a bunch of tomatoes, followed by an bag of onions, a weird bulb thing that Dan was fairly certain was garlic, two knives, and two cutting boards.

“You look like you could use some risotto,” his nana said simply with a small smile and a twinkle in her eye.

Dan’s breath _whooshed_ from his lungs, a wave of relief crashing through his body. He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting when he’d confessed _that,_ but it wasn’t something so — so — _normal_.

Nana pushed the chopping board and knife towards him, and started picking through the onions. When she found one she was satisfied with, she rolled it towards Dan. The anxiety brought on by the _damn_ facebook post, the post that had sent Dan into a panicked spiral about his life choices, dulled his reactions; he only just managed to catch the onion just before it fell off the table.

“Cut that,” Nana ordered quietly as she broke a few bits off of the garlic-looking thing.

Dan didn’t know how to do much in the kitchen — he was well hopeless at most of it, really — but spending most of his summers at his nana’s house, in this very chair, had taught him how to do two things: dice an onion and peel a potato. He was utterly incompetent when it came to _doing_ anything with the ingredients, but he at least knew how to be a decent kitchen hand when it came to those two basic tasks.

Numbly, Dan steadied the onion on the board, and sliced the ends of the bulb off. His hand set about peeling the paper away, worrying it between his fingers like the anxieties worried his mind. When he was certain that all of the paper was off, Dan brushed the wrappings to the side, and sliced the onion in half.

“So tell me about this boy,” Nana nudged softly, once they’d both settled into their tasks.

Dan continued slicing the onion silently for a moment before answering. “He’s brilliant, Nana. You would — you _will_ love him.” She hummed quietly but didn’t say anything else, so Dan continued. “Phil lives up north — close to Manchester, see.”

“You’ve mentioned that a time or two.”

 _Oops_. Of course he had. And even if he hadn’t, Nana wasn’t an idiot. Surely she’d pieced together why Dan was suddenly _so_ interested in going to Manchester every other weekend.

“Well, he’s moving to Manchester proper in the summer. His parents are helping him get a flat.”

“That’s nice of them,” Nana murmured.

“Yeah, so. Well. Like I said, I might have fu— _messed_ up.” Dan didn’t look up, doing his best to keep his hands from trembling as he chopped. He wasn’t sure what Nana’s face looked like — and at this point, he wasn’t particularly keen to find out.

“How so?”

“I love him, Nana.” Dan risked a quick peek up. Nana was concentrated on her task, but her lips were turned up in a small, gentle smile. Reassured slightly, Dan continued, “I love him so, so much. And the distance… it’s sucked. It’s been absolute hell. For both of us. I want — _need_ to be closer to him.”

Nana stilled her knife and looked up to meet Dan’s eyes. Dan was suddenly very grateful that she had put him in charge of the onion — hopefully he could pass his watering eyes off as a side effect of the vegetable, rather than tears.

Knife still poised in the air, Nana didn’t say anything, calmly waiting for Dan to continue. Dan drew in a big breath before he continued.

“So I’m supposed to go to uni in the fall.” Dan knew he was jumping around a bit, and hoped that Nana could keep up. He didn’t have enough wits about him to tell this story coherently right now. “You know, to, uh, study law like Dad wants.”

Nana started chopping again, her eyes flickering between her knife and Dan. Self-consciously, Dan redoubled his efforts to cut the onion and focused his eyes downwards, staring at the knife, his fingers, the white vegetable.

“I’ve heard your father’s ideas for your future, yes,” Nana said, a bitter, curt edge to her voice.

Dan felt a glimmer of hope, a glimmer of hope that Nana might recognize that uni — or a law course, at least — had more to do with his father’s wishes than Dan’s own. The knot in his stomach loosened ever so slightly. There was a chance, a small chance, that Nana might not be _too_ angry about his recent decisions.

“He’ll murder me if I don’t get in,” Dan mumbled, concentrating on cutting the onion into even, long strips.

“He’d get over himself eventually, you know. But you’ll be fine, dear. You’re a right smart lad, top of your class. I know any one of the — what was it? five? six? — universities you applied to would be happy to have you,” Nana reassured.

“That’s the thing,” Dan refuted brazenly, his knife stilling in mid-air. He could feel the knife shaking in his hand, and hoped Nana didn’t notice.

“What’s the thing, dear?”

“I didn’t apply to all of the school’s dad told me to.” Dan dropped his knife and drew his lip in between his teeth, trying to figure out how to word his confession.

“Which ones _did_ you end up applying to then?” Nana asked before Dan could say anymore.

“Manchester.”

There was a pause, as Nana waited for Dan to throw a few other names out there. Dan bit his lip, because he had nothing else to say. After a moment, Nana’s movements stopped, and she looked up at him quizzically.

“And?”

“Manchester,” Dan repeated meekly. The memory of that fucking facebook post surged back to Dan, and the terror that he wouldn’t get into Manchester — meaning that he wouldn’t have gotten into _any_ school — washed over him him.

Nana set her knife down too, brushing the bits on her cutting board into a pan. Her expression was still patient as ever, but confusion was beginning to creep in, her brows furrowing slightly, eyes narrowing the smallest bit. “I’m not following, Bear.”

“There’s not much to follow,” Dan chuckled hollowly, returning to the last bits of the onion he was supposed to be chopping. “Dad wanted me to apply to seven uni’s. I applied to Manchester.”

“ _Just_ Manchester?” Nana asked curiously, her eyes searching Dan’s face for something.

Finally. _Finally_ she seemed to catch on.

“ _Just_ Manchester,” Dan confirmed numbly. He scooped his finished onions into a pile in the center of his board, and pushed it across the table towards his nana.

“So not only are you… unenthusiastic about studying law like your father would have you,” Nana began. Dan expected her to be angry, or at least frustrated, but she sounded amused. There was a light lilt in her voice, her words unsteady, as if she was trying to keep laughter from bubbling up. “But you only applied to one uni — the uni that just so happens to be in the town where your boyfriend lives.”

“Well when you put it like that…” Dan trailed off, biting his lip and averting his gaze.

“Like that?” Nana laughed as she added his onions to the pan and sat it on the hob. “Truthfully, you mean?” she teased.

Dan groaned, chagrined, and dropped his hand back into his arms, careful to avoid the knife. “Well, yeah. No need to be so blunt though,” he grumbled.

Nana chuckled. “Grab the bouillon from the cupboard, Daniel.”

Dan looked up. Nana’s back was to him as she added rice to the pan and filled a pot with water in the sink. Dan hurried up, rifling through the pantry to find the small box that his nana was asking for. He found a few cardboard boxes that said “boullion” on them — vegetable, chicken, and beef. He grabbed them all and carried them over to the stove, offering them to his nana. With a small smile, she picked the vegetable box out of his hands and motioned him to put the rest back.

“This boy must be something special,” Nana said after a few minutes of silence, ladling a spoonful of broth into the pan she was stirring.

“He is. He really is,” Dan urged, trying to make Nana understand just how very special Phil was.

“Special enough to risk your education.” She was passive, almost perfectly neutral. Her voice wasn’t terse, wasn’t tense, like Dan figured it had a right to be. He was being unbelievably reckless after all. He’d applied to _one_ university. To _one_ program. Statistically, the program accepted only two hundred students of out a typical _eighteen hundred_ applicants.

So, no.

The odds weren’t in his favor.

Dan was being reckless. He was being young and in love and _stupid_. But he had a reason. A beacon of hope guiding him to Manchester: Phil.

The truth was, Dan cared more about Phil than he did _law._ But also, to be fair, Dan probably cared about the ants on his nana’s windowsill more than he cared about _law._ It was hard to imagine anything he cared about _less_ than law, really.

“It’s not like I really give a fu— _hoot_ about the law degree, anway.” Dan mumbled. “It’s just an excuse. A way out.”

A way out of his parents’ house. A way out of Wokingham. A way to Phil.

“A way to Manchester,” Nana supplied.

“I mean. Yeah, basically,” Dan admitted, watching her add another spoonful of liquid to the pan, stirring methodically.

“Let’s hear it, then. Tell me more about this boy, _Phil_.”

Dan let out a breath that he didn’t realize he was holding. She wasn’t angry, she wasn’t upset. Instead, she was trying to _understand_ , she was trying to know _more._

“He’s _wonderful_ ,” Dan gushed. He moved over to where she was stirring the pan, and hopped up on the counter next to the hob. Nana half-heartedly swatted at his leg — she’d told him off hundreds of times over the years for sitting on the counters but had long since given up on trying to get his bum into a proper chair while she was cooking. “He’s so passionate and kind and _weird_ …” Dan trailed off again.

There were no words in the world that could properly describe Phil. He was just so… _much_. He was everything Dan had ever dared to hope for from a partner and _more_. He didn’t know how to communicate to his nana how _perfect_ Phil was.

“And you think he’s worth it?” Nana questioned. Again, her tone wasn’t harsh or judgemental. She was genuinely asking, trying to understand. Unlike either of Dan’s parents (or at least, so he feared), she cared. “You think he’s worth risking your chance at a uni education?”

“A uni education I could give a rat’s ass about…” Dan mumbled under his breath. Clearly, though, he wasn’t quiet enough, because Nana smacked his thigh with a reprimanding glare. “I mean, um…”

“Regardless of how much you do or don’t want a degree in law, you think this boy is worth risking it? Or risking the wrath of your father if nothing else?” Still yet, her voice wasn’t patronizing. She seemed almost… understanding.

“Nana,” Dan sighed. “I think Phil’s worth just about anything.”

Nana added another ladle of broth to the pan and continued stirring methodically. Silence enveloped the room as that confession sunk in. Dan’s eyes followed the spoon, hypnotized by its slow, steady, rhythmic drag through the rice. At some point, Nana started humming a soft tune under her breath. For the first time all day, Dan felt safe. No matter how brash his decisions had been recently, life would carry on. One way or another, he’d move forward.

“Daniel, love. If you want the tomatoes in the risotto, please cut them.”

Truthfully, Dan could take or leave the tomatoes, but he was a little bit desperate for something to do with his hands, something to distract himself from his worried thoughts, so he hopped down from his perch on the counter and shuffled back to the kitchen table.

“How many?” he asked, pulling the bunch towards himself.

Nana glanced over her shoulder. “Let’s start with four, I think that should do it.”

Dan set to work, carefully slicing up the tomatoes. With the exception of the sporadic chopping of his knife and the steady drag of Nana’s spoon through the risotto, the room was silent for a few minutes.

“So you think he’s special,” Nana stated, again reflecting sentiments she’d expressed earlier. Even now, Dan was still half expecting her to find him ridiculous, to ridicule his romance, his hopes, his determination to make it work despite how young they both were. But, of all the people in the world, Dan should have known that his nana was going to be the most understanding of them all. “Tell me why, bear.”

If Nana was trying _this_ hard to understand, to decipher Dan’s motives, surely she didn’t think he was _too_ foolish. He could handle her thinking he was impulsive, irresponsible, headstrong even — but not _idiotic._

“It’s like…” Dan slid his knife through the first tomato, chopping it cleanly in half. “Everything he does is _filled_ with passion. He’s been working on his youtube channel — that video site I told you about — and he just… he…” Dan was lost for words, couldn’t figure out how to express the endless list of reasons of _why_ Phil was so important, so extraordinary. He had always prided himself on being articulate, being good with words, but now — now he was completely tongue-tied. Over a boy of all things.

Unable to say anything else, Dan redoubled his focus on the tomatoes.

“So he makes videos on youtube,” Nana prompted when Dan had been silent for too long.

“Yeah,” Dan breathed, shaking himself out of his stupor. “And they are so _weird_ sometimes, but they are all so, _so_ creative. He’s got a real, proper fanbase going for him and… he’s talented, Nana. I promise,” Dan urged fiercely.

“So, he likes doing these videos…” Nana stated stirring her pot a bit more. “How does that affect you and law?”

“I want to do them, too.” The words rushed out of Dan’s mouth before Dan could stop them. He tried his best to sound confident, assured. But he was nervous. “I’ve made a few of them — it’s _fun_. It’s the most I’ve enjoyed doing anything in ages.”

He wanted her to take him seriously, to understand that youtube was something _he_ was passionate about. But at the same time, he _really_ didn’t want her to ask to see them. He wasn’t sure he could endure her watching the sexual _mess_ of Phil is Not on Fire or the sometimes lewd, sometimes crass videos he’d made for his own channel.

“Hmmm,” Nana murmured. Dan couldn’t tell if he was imagining the disapproval or not.

“I know.” Dan acquiesced. “I know it’s not practical. I know it’s not going to make me millions — or even _hundreds_ — of dollars. But it’s just… I like it,” Dan said, trailing off.

He more than liked it. Feeling such passion, such joy from something when he’d felt so sad, so lost for so, so long was refreshing. He felt _alive_. He didn’t want to lose that. Especially not for something as mundane as _law school_.

“We have fun together. And sure, maybe _that’s_ not how we’re going to make a living, but a part of me really believes that somehow, together, we’ll figure something out. He’s creative and he brings out this… passion in me that I didn’t realize I was capable of. That I’ve never felt before. I really think that, somehow, together, we can… do something.”

The spoon that Nana was stirring through the rice stilled for a moment before picking up its rhythmic pace again.

“You know,” Nana said, stirring methodically, “you’re grandfather… once upon a time he believed that he — that _we_ — were capable of something extraordinary. He wanted to open a restaurant. But I wouldn’t take the risk. He always promised that it was fine, that he didn’t care, that he was _more_ than happy with how things turned out. But…” Nana stirred in a few leaves from the plant in the window. “But I’ve always wondered how things would have turned out differently if we’d gone for it. If we’d opened a restaurant.”

Dan passed her the tomato chunks, not sure what to say.

“I’ve wondered,” Nana continued, “if he would have lived longer. Without the stress of working a job at the London Stock Exchange. I wonder if he would have liked the daily work of managing waiters more than monitoring the worth of companies. I wonder how things would have been different.” Nana stirred the pan some more, adding a few more leaves to the creamy rice.

Dan poured the tomatoes into the pan on her silent command.

“I don’t want you to wonder, Daniel.”

“What?” Dan asked, half unwilling to interrupt the dulcet tone of the evening, but also confused by what his nana was saying. A flame of hope flickered in Dan’s chest. Was it possible that Nana could support him chasing Phil, youtube, happiness? Something that wasn’t the carefully laid out plan his parents had for him?

“Whatever you think will make you,” Nana dragged her spoon through the risotto, “and Phil,” she added with a sly smile, “happy — that’s what I want for you.”

“You want me to be happy… even if it means not studying law…” Dan tried to clarify, perplexed by his nana’s intentions. “Even if it means… with Phil.”

“ _Especially_ if it means with Phil,” Nana said, stirring in the tomatoes.

Dan chewed on the inside of his lip. “Why _especially_ if it’s with Phil?” Dan asked.

“He seems like a special lad,” Nana answered. “When I look at how you talk about him, I remember how I felt when I first met your grandfather. I’ve thought so since you first mentioned him.”

“Really?”

“Yes. And that’s why I’m going to demand to meet this boy of yours.”

Dan felt his cheeks flush. Before tonight, he’d never explicitly told his grandmother that he liked boys, but she’d been so, so receptive that his heart was _melting._ He wasn’t prepared for her to be as kind, as open, as inviting as she was, but here Dan was, still _reeling_ from how welcoming she was being.

Not once had she batted an eyelash at the fact that Dan was dating a boy.

He could only _dream_ of having such a positive reaction from his parents but —

But he didn’t know. He hadn’t mentioned it. And had no intentions of mentioning it either. He knew his parents were curious _why_ he insisted on spending so much time at Phil's, but he wasn’t prepared to explain it to them unless he absolutely had to.

He should have known, though.

He should have known that his nana wouldn’t think twice about it, that she would be _so welcoming_ , just like she’d been to every single other thing Dan had ever confided in her.

“You — you want to me-meet Phil…” Dan stuttered.

“I insist on it,” Nana corrected. “As soon as possible,” she added, stirring in the last bit of broth to the risotto.

“But mum and —” Dan tried to interrupt.

“But nothing. You both can stay here while your parents think you’re out of town for all I care,” Nana offered flippantly. “I’m meeting this boy of yours. By the end of the month.”

"By the end of the month?" Dan cried incredulously. The end of the month was so _soon_. Just two weeks away. Dan couldn’t believe that Nana was _that_ adamant about meeting Phil.

"By the end of the month," Nana confirmed. "Pick a date and tell me as soon as you've got it scheduled."

"O-okay," Dan agreed. He'd text Phil later, ask him when he was free. But for now, he fetched two bowls from the cabinet and placed them next to the stove. Nana scooped a generous helping of risotto into each bowl, passing them to Dan to set on the table.

Dan sat down in his chair, feeling lighter than he had all day. Everything would work out, somehow or another. He'd get into uni or he wouldn't. Regardless, he'd find a way to Manchester, to Phil. And sure, maybe his father would be livid if that path wasn't a law course, but as he sat across from his Nana and took a bite of her famous risotto, Dan knew he had at least one person's support.

That's all that counted.

"How's the risotto, dear?" Nana asked.

"Magical," Dan smiled.

**Author's Note:**

> you can find me on tumblr at [imnotinclinedtomaturity](http://www.imnotinclinedtomaturity.tumblr.com)
> 
> r[read and reblog](http://imnotinclinedtomaturity.tumblr.com/post/174064536845/love-is-a-risk)


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